


Fic; Childhood (1/?)

by SwirlsOfBlueJay



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Abuse, Dark, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-11
Updated: 2007-11-05
Packaged: 2017-10-13 00:38:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwirlsOfBlueJay/pseuds/SwirlsOfBlueJay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Problems House faces as a child</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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House gave the kid a high five as he handed her a lollipop and sent her on her way. He locked the door; he had dealt with enough idiots in the clinic today to last a lifetime. And though he wouldn't admit it, he did actually like children. Adults had no excuse for their ignorance and stupidity. But kids were just like wild animals, which needed to be tamed over a period of about two decades, to ensure that their spirit wasn't broken. His father had never cared for undisciplined spirit, so the concept of breaking him in, in under five years had seemed to be the right way to go.

 

It had left him broken, but not in the way John House had wanted. He had wanted a child who would always follow orders. So when the verbal kicks went unheard, he had put on the spurs. This had only increased Greg's dislike and distrust of people, and made him behave even worse. In his teens he had wondered whether he had lost the ability to ever care about people in the way other people did, but then realised everyone else was just lying. People cared, just not nearly as much as they pretended too. But he knew he was still emotionally broken in some intangible way.

 

All of the cold, damp, insect-filled nights had blurred together. Whether they had been in bustling cities, or barren wastelands, whether he had been eight or fourteen. Time had always been the enemy. In the beginning hours of the night, there was the anxiety and anticipation of what he knew would follow as the cold set in. And by the hours before dawn, he felt so wretched even the short time remaining was counted in minutes and seconds. The angry guard that was time stood at the clock tower, forcing him to wait sleeplessly. Eyes forever open filled with exhaustion, and longing.

 

There were a few nights outside he remembered very clearly, they had been tolerable, sometimes even fun. It had been during the few months they had lived in New Jersey.

 

\----

 

April 12th 1972

 

He lay curled up on a pile of leaves, closing his eyes with the false hope that tonight -unlike all the other nights- he would get enough sleep. When he heard footsteps he looked up quickly, if it was an adult he'd have to get up and form an excuse. But it was just a kid, no older than five or six. The kid was one of their new neighbours, he cursed under his breath as the kid climbed over the fence and walked towards him. One reason he hated moving to new places was this; there always seemed to be other kids asking him why he was sleeping outside, how he got his parents to let him do this wondrous thing, and other stupid questions.

 

But this kid was different; he just sat by him silently. Greg only realised that the kid had been carrying something when he felt the soft blankets being wrapped around him. He felt unreasonably grateful for the warmth, and decided rudeness would make up for it.

 

"Get lost." He demanded while glaring menacingly. Greg figured the look must've been lost to the dark because the kid just stood there thinking.

 

"But then I wont have any blankets." The kid said after a moment.

 

First he considered just telling the kid that that was tough and ignoring him. But decided it would be better for future nights to keep the kid on his side. So he just nodded and let the kid slide in beside him.

 

The sun left green splotches on the insides of his eyelids as he woke. The kid was standing beside him and was folding a blanket with the idle precision of someone who had folded blankets every day since the beginning of their years. Definitely not like an errant five year old that snuck out at night with blankets that were too big for him to fold. The kid had him intrigued.

 

"Hey kid, who are you?"

 

  
"I'm Jimmy." Jimmy replied as he disappeared over the fence.  



	2. Fic; Childhood (2/?)

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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April 21st 1972

 

He had only made it a week before getting into trouble again. This time he had gotten three sheep, numbered them 1,2 and 4, and had let them loose on the sports fields. Then Greg had watched the chaos that ensued, and the panicked long search for a sheep number three that didn't exist. In all fairness how often can you get your hands on sheep? He couldn't let the opportunity just pass by.

 

Of course it had seemed a better idea when he wasn't lying on the harsh ground wondering whether Jimmy would come again. It was unlikely, the novelty of sleeping under the stars was lost swiftly when you realised how cruel the night was, even with blankets.

 

Greg smiled as he heard small footsteps. Two items were tossed over the fence; they looked distinctly unlike blankets, the blankets followed, as did a picnic hamper. Upon closer inspection of the items, he stared with surprise. There were two sleeping bags, one adult size, and one child size. But they weren't just ordinary sleeping bags, they were the expensive ones used by trekkers and mountaineers, which wrapped around your face properly and were extra warm. Also the hamper contained proper food, not just random things a five year old might pull off of a shelf.

 

"In case we got hungry." Jimmy stated, indicating the hamper that Greg was looking in.

 

"I don't think that this is a good idea." House said sorrowfully. But he already knew that he would use the sleeping bag and get into trouble, just as he had known that he would use the sheep and get into trouble. Jimmy just shrugged, like maybe he knew too.    

 

Greg climbed into the sleeping bag, he was tall for his age but it was still a little big for him. Jimmy pulled out a flashlight from the hamper and handed it to him.

"How the hell does a five year old get all this stuff?" Greg asked with amusement.

  
"Mum is really busy so she needs me to help with food and stuff a lot. Those, (Jimmy indicated towards the sleeping bags) are from when dad and my brother went hiking" Jimmy said and finished with a whispered; "that was before I was here."

 

Greg shone the flashlight in Jimmy's face; there was a sadness in those dark eyes that bellied his years. A small child, who knew too much and couldn't comprehend it. House had often felt this way, it had fuelled his eagerness to learn, to comprehend. Maybe they were kindred spirits. Maybe they could be friends. A small burst of joy flowed through him at this thought and he swiftly squashed it. They would move away again soon, and as always he would be forgotten. Left outside to rot.

 

"What's wrong?" Greg prodded. Jimmy just shrugged.

 

"Come on, I'm looking for a distraction." Greg insisted.

 

"I try to help, but I'm not very good at it, I'm just in the way." Jimmy sighed with the gravity only a five year old could muster. Greg skipped the platitudes; he guessed they were words heard too often and too insincerely by the tiny ears. Besides he was only five, it was his job to be annoying and in the way.

 

"It's your job to be in the way." House stated.

 

Jimmy looked up at him confused; people always told him he was such a good boy whenever he said things of this nature. His new friend seemed to be the only one who had ever actually listened. He knew he was a good boy, that wasn't the issue.

 

"Mum and dad always have to deal with my brothers' problems. I miss them." Jimmy confessed. But he knew the weighty confession never mattered, nor seemed weighty to anyone else. How could he miss people he lived with? His young mind didn't yet hold the words to explain this.

 

"The problem with being an only child is that you get your parents undivided attention," his friend replied gesturing to his surroundings and continued; "why don't you con them into taking just you out."

 

Jimmy smiled. People always suggested he just ask for what he wanted, but this new suggestion sounded a lot better. He had thought about it before, he was good at getting people to do things they didn't want to, but his parents were different. It would be hard. Jimmy hesitated; his friend clearly had problems of his own.

 

"Just say it already." He said gruffly.

 

  
Jimmy thought about changing the subject, but his friend clearly didn't want to talk about his own situation. And he seemed to be genuinely interested in what Jimmy was thinking. "How do I do it?" Jimmy asked with an odd timid confidence. He listened with rapt attention, but soon felt his eyelids drooping and he was whisked away into the land of flying with superheroes, and riding wild horses.  


  



	3. Fic; childhood (3/?)

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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April 22nd 1972

 

Jimmy threw his stuff over the fence and climbed over, just as he had the night before.

"Two nights in a row." He stated dismissively, ready to drop the subject if Greg wanted to.

 

"Dad says I haven't learned my lesson yet. So how did manipulating the folks go?" Greg said both things with the same breath, as if it could erase the firsts existence.

 

"It went really well, we're going to the zoo this Saturday. Can you believe it, the zoooo!" Jimmy exclaimed. Greg chuckled at his small friends enthusiasm, and then chastised himself for thinking of Jimmy as a friend. Nothing good would come of those thoughts.

 

Greg listened as Jimmy regaled him with the story; he had sucked his parents in with the idea of a weekend to themselves. He had organised for Michael to go to one of those fun-camps for tots' weekends, and had sweet-talked someone into booking David's band for a weekend party that was two states over. And he was going for a sleepover at a friends place.

 

At first they had had doubts about sending their three year old to a camp for the weekend, but Jimmy had had this scenario covered. Jimmy had found a pirate themed camp and when it looked as though he wouldn't be allowed to meet the pirates sweet little Mikey had started screaming like murder. And the first stage was complete. 

 

He had gone back to his parents a couple of hours later, saying that his friend could only have him over on Saturday night and Sunday. (He thought it was best to give them at least one day to themselves.) So that left him at home on Saturday, of course he had offered to find somewhere else to go, knowing his parents would refuse. They had that suggested it would be great to spend a day out together.

 

Jimmy turned to him with a grin on his face. He gave him back a small crooked smile. They were definitely both as screwed up as each other. House's mind began to wonder on the subject but was snapped back to the present as Jimmy spoke again.

"Now you have to tell me your story." Jimmy said as though it was just that simple. He hadn't ever told anyone.

 

"No." He snapped. 

 

Jimmy just shrugged. He shrugged a lot. He lived a life of too many compromises.

"I hope there are horses at the zoo. I really like horses. Do you like horses Greg?" Said Jimmy.

 

"For horses you would probably be better off going to some stables. I suppose horses can be interesting sometimes." He replied as he bit into one of the tuna sandwiches Jimmy had packed. Jimmy urged him to go on, so Greg told him all he knew about horses. He told him about how the horses were never called ordinary colours; they were dun or bay or something else. But the black or white horses were said to be black or white. Which was ironic considering black was just the absence of colour and white just a blend of them all. And the silver dappled horse wasn't silver, it wasn't even grey, it was brown.

 

"That's just silly." Jimmy scoffed.

 

"People like claiming that things are different from what or how they really are. Even insignificant things." He told Jimmy as though he was intoning upon him some great wisdom that he would only understand when he was older.

 

Greg went on about the horses, they told many anecdotes. He told Jimmy about the time a horse he was riding tried to eat a car. Jimmy told him about the time he saw a horse poop on someone. By the end they were both in uproars of laughter. After a while the laughter died down and tapered off into a comfortable silence as they stared up at the stars.

 

"It started when I was six." Greg said suddenly breaking the silence. Jimmy sat up and moved closer, swallowing the urge to point out that he would be six soon. "I had embarrassed him by being rude to a friend of his." He looked at Jimmy, who seemed to be genuinely interested and listening intently. For some stupid reason, as he looked into those deep brown eyes he felt that he could trust him. So for the first time in his life, he took a deep breath and continued. 

 

"He filled the bath with ice cubes and told me to strip. I just stood there staring at him. So he pulled my t-shirt off and dumped me in the bath. Every time I tried to get out he would force me back in and pour more ice-cubes on top of me. After that day, every time he thought I had done something bad, he did the same thing. I must've had about a hundred ice-baths over the next two years." House said with an air of detachment.

 

Greg paused, he thought Jimmy would ask him to go on, but he just sat there waiting patiently. After a few minutes he continued.

"When I was eight he thought that the ice-baths weren't inciting the same level of fear anymore, so he decided to move on to something else. He said he would show me that if I was going to stay under his roof I would follow his rules. And thus here we are, sleeping outside." House finished, giving Jimmy an ironic smirk.

 

Jimmy's face seemed to be expressionless, they just sat looking at each other for a while. Then Jimmy reached out and touched his hand, slowly wrapping his fingers around it. Greg thought of pulling away, but he couldn't bring himself too. Besides Jimmy was the little kid here, it was easy to think that he himself was giving the comfort and not the other way around.

 

"Aren't you going to tell me your story?" Jimmy asked after a while, the question somehow held sincerity and yet held lightness as though it could be thrown away if need be.

 

"I just did!" Greg shouted incredulously. 

 

"You mentioned some events. You didn't say what it did to you." Explained Jimmy.

 

"I don't do mushy feelings and that crap." He retorted.

 

"I'm not asking just because I want to know. My mum always says a problem shared is a problem halved." Jimmy squeezed his hand.

 

"I don't know." He whispered nervously.

 

"It's up to you." Jimmy said with a shrug. 

 

They talked about horses some more, and elephants and chimpanzees. Then segued flawlessly between the rolling stones and comic-book heroes. They were just discussing which power would be the coolest to have when Jimmy stopped mid-sentence. Jimmy nodded at him as though sensing that he was ready to talk. He was.

 

"I was only six, jeez I'd only stopped believing in Santa the year before." Greg stopped as he realised who he was talking to, he turned towards Jimmy ready for the waterworks.

 

"Oh please, I've known since I was three." Jimmy announced, as though it was something he was proud of.  

 

"He's a big strong marine and I was basically like a little rag-doll in his grip. I always hated how vulnerable and out of control I felt. But that first time I was terrified, I was confused and scared and didn't know what was happening. His grip on my arms was always so strong I was sure he would snap them, but they didn't even bruise. He was careful to never leave a mark. He made sure I would be the only one who knew. He made sure I was isolated. He makes sure I'm alone." Greg punctuated alone by throwing an apple across the yard.

 

"I hate him! Because he always does the wrong thing, and he always wins. I am defiant to the point of stupidity. I fight and argue at every turn! And yet…and yet I'm out here freezing my ass off because I don't have the guts to stand up to him on the one thing that actually counts." Greg ranted angrily, he paused to catch his breath and to calm himself down. Jimmy squeezed his hand, he hadn't even realised when Jimmy had started holding it again.   

 

"It's hard to understand how painful the cold can be, I just couldn't stand it. I had to get out. You know when you really really need to pee Jimmy? It's a bit like that; it's instinctive. And he knew it. He would wait until I was forced to push myself out, and then use my 'disobedience' as an excuse to punish me further. He would grasp my shoulders and thrust me back into the ice water. Then he would get his bucket of ice, and pour it over me. Ever been caught in a hailstorm without your umbrella Jimmy? It's a lot worse than that." Greg said pausing again, this time to see Jimmy's reaction more than for anything else. 

 

"Having ice pelting painfully onto naked flesh that was already chilled to the bone, it was agonising. I would flinch away, curl up, do anything I could to avoid it. But he couldn't even let me have that; he wanted me feeling as vulnerable as possible. He wanted to make sure that I did everything possible to not be there again, he wanted me to behave. A few times he made me stand with my hands on my head, and threw the ice at me with all the strength those marine biceps could muster. I felt sick because I knew I felt as vulnerable as he wanted me too, if not more so."

 

"The baths seemed to be an endless cycle of the inner battles to stay in the water, always inevitably lost, then more ice, then the next inner struggle, more ice and so on. I felt so torn, and so very alone. There were times I would whimper and blubber like a baby. Eternities seemed to pass before I was finally let out. Dad always made me wait a few minutes before he let me have a towel. So I would stand there desperately rubbing my hands over myself in an effort to get some heat. I tried to stay out of trouble, but it never really worked." Greg finished morosely.

 

Greg looked at Jimmy, he didn't want to talk about the nights spent sleeping outside; it was too current; too raw. Jimmy didn't say anything, and he didn't prod or pry. Suddenly Jimmy just picked up where he had left off on the superhero powers. He grinned at Jimmy, he couldn't have hoped for a better reaction.

 

They talked about how Jimmy's mum made the best macadamia nut pancakes ever, and how Greg's mum made the best chocolate cake. About all the places Greg had been, and all the people Jimmy knew. They talked about books and T.V and music. Greg was just telling Jimmy how easy it was to play the guitar -if he really wanted to learn- when they saw the first golden rays of light come over the horizon. Greg and Jimmy smiled. They knew this thing, whatever it was, would last a while.  

 


	4. Fic; Childhood (4/?) interlude

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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April 23rd 1972

 

Greg lay in his warm bedroom, holding his duvet tightly around himself. He wondered how many other kids really appreciated having soft sheets below them, and thick duvets above them, as much as he did. He looked out of the window into the yard and thought about Jimmy.

 

 

  
Susan Wilson sat in the old rocking chair, holding her five year old in her lap, and stroking his hair. It was getting late but Jimmy was somehow managing to stay awake. She supposed it was because he was desperate not to miss any of the so rarely given attention.

 

  
She sighed, she worried about him; he really had gotten the short end of the stick. But with one child so sick and the other so dangerously out of control…it was no excuse, but when you've expended all your time, energy and money on the other two. It's too easy to just leave the good quiet healthy child to his own devices.

 

  
Jimmy's recent antics had scared her. No child should feel the need to go to all that trouble just to be able to spend some time with its parents. So now  -by her insistence- her husband was trying to find a professional nurse who would be willing to take Michael on Saturday. That was both within their budget (of next to nothing) and willing to dress up as a pirate. And she just had to pray that David and his friends wouldn't be drunk as they drove down to the party.

 

  
Everyone said Jimmy was fine, just very advanced for his age. But while she knew he was very smart, she also knew his responsible behaviour and maturity was a product of necessity, not genius. The teachers said she was holding him back by not letting him skip grades.

 

  
As always, her focus was once more taken off of Jimmy, this time by David arriving in a cop car yet again. She sighed as she opened the door preparing to talk. Her voice held the same blend of exasperation and wariness, disappointment and fatigue, which seemed to linger constantly inside the lines of her face nowadays.

 

Jimmy clung onto his mum as she went to the door, and he buried his face in her neck. He didn't like the police, they were mean. She smelled of cooking. The police were always falsely nice to him. He felt the vibrations in her neck as she spoke to them. The sound was warm but there was something there, something broken.

 

  
Jimmy knew this and yet didn't know the words to describe the feelings in her voice. He felt as though he was reaching for something, but although he could feel the rough texture under his fingers it was still far out of his grasp. Maybe if he could just reach it, he could make everything better.

 


	5. Fic; Childhood (5/?)

  


May 9th 1972

 

  
Greg and Jimmy lay next to each other. The moon had waned and the night was pitch-black.

 

  
"You still awake?" Jimmy whispered.

 

  
"Yeah, you're quiet tonight. Thought you were asleep." Greg replied.

 

  
"Been thinking. You know Mikey's sick?" Jimmy said. Greg was silent; Jimmy wondered whether he had that look on his face; the one he always got when he was trying to figure something out.

 

  
"Yep, so what's going on with that?" Greg asked, suppressing an insensitive remark.

 

  
"I'm gonna help him get better. I have to have an op'ration." He said apprehensively. Greg was silent again. "They want my bone mow." He added whispering.

"Greg?" And still silence. Jimmy shone the flashlight onto Greg's face. Greg was sitting with his eyes averted as he fidgeted, plucking blades of grass from the ground.  Greg refused to meet his eyes and Jimmy was scared he had done something wrong. Then suddenly Jimmy felt a small awkward pat on his shoulder, he cracked a tiny broken smile. Soon after they were both asleep, and if they both woke with much larger dark circles under their eyes than usual, neither of them mentioned it.   

 

May 13th 1972

 

  
"Greg!" Jimmy called running up to him. Greg scowled at him for breaking one of their unspoken rules; communicating during daylight hours, outside.

 

  
"What?" Greg snapped at him when he insisted on lingering like a disgustingly adorable puppy. Jimmy walked beside Greg; happy to follow to wherever his friend would lead him. Even if it could get him into trouble.

 

  
"I'm going to be away for a while cos of the whole Mikey thing, we're goin far way to special hospital, it's in a whole other state." Jimmy spewed quickly.  

 

  
"Ok." Greg replied, thinking about cold nights alone.

 

  
"I'll miss you." Jimmy said with much more sombreness than a five year old should be able to pull off.

 

  
"The time will fly by." Greg smirked.

 

  
"Do you think I'll die Greg?" Jimmy asked, and thus the strange sombre tone was explained, Greg thought. 

 

  
"You haven't talked to your mum about it?" Greg sighed.

 

  
"She said I'll be fine, but David says that's just what mums are s'posed to say."

 

  
"David's a moron, don't listen to him."

 

  
"No he's not! Don't say that!" Jimmy shouted indignantly. Greg rolled his eyes at the indignation, he had actually been holding back quite a bit, moron was quite an understatement, and Jimmy didn't appreciate his efforts at all!

 

  
"You wouldn't be human if you weren't scared, but it'll go ok." Greg told him.

 

  
"You promise?" He asked timidly. Greg hesitated, unwilling to make a promise he might have to break. Which usually wouldn't be a problem at all. It seemed Jimmy had infested him with some deadly give-a-damn virus.

 

  
"Yeah, I promise." Greg replied, hoping Jimmy wouldn't notice the chink in his armour of confidence. 

 

May 28th 1972

 

  
Greg cursed the evil seasons that appeared to re-arrange themselves just for his personal inconvenience. He wiped his nose on his sleeve; it was unnaturally cold for almost June.

 

  
He wondered what Jimmy was doing and how he was. He vaguely wondered how Michael was, but only in the way it would affect Jimmy. And how that would in turn affect him. The shadows from the trees created a large figment of his friend and he would've sworn the damp grass smelt of him too if he hadn't known better.

 

  
Jimmy had left him a phone number but he was far too stubborn to break his own rule and make the call. Besides as long as it was always Jimmy coming over to him, he wouldn't have to admit that he liked the kid. If they started phoning each other, and going round each other's houses it would make the friendship too real. And it would just hurt more when it broke. 

 

June 19th 1972

 

  
Greg suppressed a grin as he heard Jimmy climb over the fence. It had taken all of his will power to not just go over and visit Jimmy as soon as he had gotten back.

 

  
"How did things at the hospital go?" Greg asked.

 

  
"We went to the fair on Tuesday. It was so fun, have you been to the fair Greg? I went on this really, really, really huge ride. Then I threw up. But then I went on it again!" Jimmy exclaimed laughing, eyes bright with cheer.

 

  
"So how's Mikey?" Greg asked harshly, ignoring Jimmy's blatant effort to change the subject.

 

  
Jimmy shrugged and picked a teddy bear out of the bag, hugging it tightly to himself.  

 

  
"God, that bear looks like shit, what'd you do, put it through a blender?" Said Greg poking the washed-out ugly pea-green thing.

 

  
"This is Rufus." Jimmy said and lifted the bear up, wiggled it around and with a higher pitch, "hello, nice to meet you." Said the bear. 

 

  
"Rufus, seriously?" Greg smirked and continued, "Stop changing the subject, I know you want to talk about it, and I've decided to graciously let you."

 

  
Jimmy held the bear in front of his face and continued to pretend that it was speaking.

"I don't know how he is." Rufus squeaked.

 

  
"Yeah you do." Greg told him bluntly.

 

  
"He's not ok, it's Jimmy's fault." Rufus said sniffling.

 

  
"Yeah, and it's bad TV's fault that there are murderers everywhere." Intoned Greg sarcastically, while glaring at the bear. He had a perverse urge to rip its head off.

 

  
Jimmy's lower lip began quivering and Greg looked on in horror as silent streams of tears rolled down his face.

 

"Oh, crap!" Greg exclaimed, rolling his eyes. "Come on." He said gently, pulling Jimmy into an embrace. Jimmy's small baby-fat covered fist clung fiercely to Greg's t-shirt, as he sobbed quietly into it. Greg didn't know what to say, but he figured saying nothing would do the least damage. So Greg silently held Jimmy as he sniffled and hiccupped, and he carried on holding him until Jimmy slipped off to sleep.  



	6. Childhood (6/7)

  


 

June 20th 1972

 

  
Greg watched Jimmy inquisitively as he once more took out the sleeping bags. Jimmy didn't mention being out for two nights in a row this time. He wondered whether it was because Jimmy was trying to be sensitive, or just had other things on his mind, or some other random reason.

 

  
"So, what's Rufus been up to?" Greg joked.

 

  
"He's here." Jimmy said pulling out the bear. 

 

  
"So tell me more about the fair." Greg asked, hoping Jimmy would get the allusion to their earlier conversation. He wanted to give him the chance to talk more about the situation, if he wanted to. But he was also reluctant to start a conversation that was so far out of his comfort zone. 

 

  
"We went round and round on the teacups, and hooked ducks and ate cotton candy." Jimmy rambled quickly.

 

  
"Snazzy." Greg stated with a hint of sarcasm. As they continued to talk Greg veered the conversation towards the whole Mikey-hospital thing a couple of times, but Jimmy didn't say anything so Greg didn't push it. He didn't care about Mikey anyway.

 

 

  
June 25th 1972

 

  
"Greg, your friend is here to see you." Blythe called warily up the stairs. Greg didn't really have many friends; he'd mostly given up with all the moving they did. And he craved intelligence, making him unlikely to befriend such a small child. She tried to suppress the grin she felt as Greg told her they'd be heading out, for once he was socialising with people that didn't reek of trouble. Things were looking up.

 

  
"What're you doing here?" Greg grunted at Jimmy. He decided that they would go to the park because he still didn't want Jimmy in his house. It was bad enough when they were in the yard and he got these strange pangs in his chest. He refused to believe this was emotion. But it was a possibility and if that was the case the best chance at not letting the disease spread was minimal contact with each other's private worlds.  

 

"Mikey is all better!" Jimmy exclaimed happily.

 

  
"Cool. What happened?" Greg asked nonchalantly.

 

  
"The med'cin worked." Jimmy shrugged, a clear lack of understanding danced in his eyes, but Jimmy was just content to know his brother was okay. Greg nodded, choosing not to say anything. He wanted to be a doctor, he knew a lot about medicine. For instance most bone marrow transplant problems tended to lead to permanent complications. He doubted that whatever had been done to Mikey was more than a temporary fix. But Jimmy would probably find that out for himself sooner or later.

 

  
They entered the park, and Greg pushed Jimmy on the swings. Even though Jimmy had declared proudly that he had learned how to push himself. Jimmy watched in awe as Greg nimbly climbed one of the tall trees. He tried to follow, but his short arms and legs couldn't reach far enough, so he only made it a bit of the way Greg did. Greg told him it was about a third of the way, but he thought it was more, at least an eighth or ninth. He had no idea why Greg had burst out laughing at that. 

 

 

  
July 4th 1972

 

  
Greg sat in a deck chair next to Jimmy, stubbornly refusing to enjoy himself. He knew his parents and the Wilson's suddenly deciding to celebrate the day together was his mother's doing. Jimmy asked him why he was such a grumpy guts today.

 

  
"If I let her get away with this, the next thing I know she'll be setting up play-dates." Greg cringed.

 

  
"But play-dates are fun." Jimmy said looking confusedly at his strange friend.

 

  
"Yeah, for babies." Greg replied.

 

  
"I'm not a baby." Jimmy said simply.

 

  
And Greg said, "I know" because most five year olds would've started crying or whimpering or whining at that and Jimmy definitely was different. Not that he didn't know that already. He'd known about two minutes after he had met him. But he still wasn't going along with this charade that his mother had concocted. He would have plenty of time to make friends in college, if there was anyone there who wasn't an idiot.

 

  
"What are you so scared of Greg?" Jimmy asked, looking into his eyes with that freaky deep perception of his. Greg gave him a sad smile and told him to go play with his brothers. Jimmy nodded with more understanding than an innocent five year old should be allowed, and walked away.

 

  
Greg watched Jimmy play with his younger brother, who did seem very well, maybe he had been wrong about the prognosis. He refused to listen to the little voice that pointed out that it was still early days. He smiled as he looked at Jimmy's eyes fill with joy, as reflections of the fireworks danced merrily in them. He also ignored the voice when it told him he should stop seeing Jimmy at all, before he fell in too deep and got crushed by falling debris. Maybe he had already fallen.

 

 

  
July 10th 1972

 

  
Jimmy wrapped his own blanket around Greg.

 

  
"It's warm, how come you're shivering."

 

  
"Ice bath." Greg growled.

 

  
"Maybe it's time to tell someone Greg."  

 

  
"NO!"

 

  
"But…"

 

  
"Shut up."

 

  
"I just want to…"

 

  
"Shut up, shut up, shut up. You don't understand anything." 

 

  
"Then explain."

 

  
"You still wont understand. It's complicated."

 

  
A heavy silence fell around them, like some cosmic viper had a stranglehold on the air. After what seemed like a few forevers to Jimmy, Greg sighed and began to speak.

 

  
"I can only tell you a small part of it, one of the reasons, and after you have to promise not to bring this up ever again." Greg told him sternly.  Jimmy hesitated, ready to protest, but looking at Greg he realised this chance wouldn't happen again. Greg could only give what he could.

 

  
"Okay." Jimmy said slowly, already knowing it was stupid to agree.

 

  
"My mum loves him, and she loves me, and it would devastate her. And I can handle this, it's not like I'm getting broken bones." Greg stated.

 

  
"You said there were more reasons." Jimmy asked softly.

 

  
"And I also said I wasn't going to tell you." Greg replied through gritted teeth.

 

  
"He might do really, really worse things one day." Jimmy said, his voice trembling slightly with worry.

 

  
"I know I'm safe." Greg said sincerely.

 

  
"How?" Asked Jimmy.

 

  
"He's never told me that I shouldn't tell anyone." Greg said as though it held great meaning. 

"Huh?" Jimmy said confused.

 

  
"What I mean is, he isn't one of those drunks who bash their kids around, say they deserved it because of fictitious bad behaviour, and then threaten more violence if they tell. He only punishes me when I've actually done something wrong." Greg explained.

 

  
"So that's it then, you just go on?" Jimmy said, his voice cracking.

 

  
"Yep, I'm ok. I plan on finishing school a couple years early anyway, I'll be off at college in no time." Said Greg. Jimmy just nodded. There was another silence, but this time it was their ordinary comfortable one.

 

  
"I love you Greg." Jimmy said quietly before he went to sleep.

 

"Sure you do, kid." Greg said with a wonderfully genuine smile.       



	7. Fic; Childhood (7/7)

  


 

 

July 15th 1972

 

He idly played connect the dots, pointing his finger towards the stars and imagining random patterns. They had both had long days and were tired, so they decided to just go to sleep.

 

  
"Night Greg."

 

"Night Jimmy."

 

 

August 23rd 1972

 

Greg tried to remain indifferent to the strange rustling sounds outside his window, but it was starting to get annoying. He went to the window to investigate. As soon as the window was opened, something tumbled in.

 

  
"Jimmy?" He asked surprised.

 

  
"I haven't seen you in aaages. What's been goin on?" Asked Jimmy.

 

  
"That hard to believe I've been behavin'?" He smirked sarcastically.

 

  
"Really?" Naïve little Jimmy seemed to half believe him.

 

  
"Nah, Dad's just away on mission this month." He revealed.

 

  
"Wanna have a sleepover?" Jimmy whispered shyly. Greg stared at jimmy, he loved and hated the idea with equal voracity, and he wasn't sure what to say. Old insecurities about letting people close battled with swiftly suppressed excitement. But Jimmy seemed to have forced himself into his heart, in much the same way he had forced himself into his bedroom; sneakily.

 

  
"Sure. I'll just let mum know." He replied, trying to convince himself that it wasn't a big deal. And then shouted out the bedroom door, "Hey mum, can my friend stay over tonight?"

 

  
"Hello sweetie, I didn't even realise you were here." Blythe said to Jimmy as she entered the room.

 

  
"Hi." Jimmy smiled.

 

  
"I hope Greg has fed you something." She said eyeing her son. Jimmy nodded enthusiastically. "And your parents are ok with you staying over?" Jimmy nodded again. Greg smiled at how his young friend was already quite the liar.  

 

  
"Well then, come downstairs, every sleepover needs some good snacks."

 

  
Jimmy and Greg spread their hoard of sweets and toys and comics over the floor as they chatted and watched bad TV. Jimmy tried to read one of Greg's books, and Greg affectionately called him an idiot every time he got stuck on a long word.

 

  
"Time for compulsory-sleepover-ghost-stories" Greg announced, bored with Jimmy's continual butchering of good books.

 

  
"OK. Can I tell one?" Jimmy said enthusiastically. Greg made a gesture for Jimmy to go ahead. "It was a dark and stormy night." Jimmy began. Greg rolled his eyes and fake-yawned. Jimmy playfully punched him on the arm.

 

  
"A lady was driving, she saw something in the road, she got out to look. It was a doll. She got back in her car and was driving, then there was someone in a truck horning loudly again and again. She was scared so she was driving more faster and more faster. But then she saw him so close so she stopped. Then he showed her that a guy with a knife had jumped in the back when she had got the doll. They took the guy to the police and she thanked the trucker." Jimmy told Greg.

 

  
Greg chuckled and proceeded to tell Jimmy the real version of the story in all its bloody glory; wherein the lady didn't stop and so got butchered by the crazy knife man. Jimmy had a look of horror on his face, which suddenly morphed into a wide grin. And they both broke out into giggles.

 

  
Jimmy spotted Greg's guitar and gazed at it with fascination.

 

  
"Don't even think it. It's not a toy." Greg said sternly.

 

  
"Is it yours?" Jimmy asked.

 

  
"Yeah, I could be a rock-star if I wanted. I'm that good. But I have other plans." Greg replied with a wry smirk.

 

  
"Can you play something now?" Jimmy squeaked with excitement. Greg nodded, quite happy to show-off a little in front of his young friend. Jimmy noticed that he picked up his guitar with a respect he rarely afforded anyone let alone anything. He listened with awe as the notes of 'I can't get no satisfaction' flew beautifully around the room. 

 

  
Jimmy requested a song, and Greg grudgingly played it, and the next one, and the one after that. He grumbled but continued playing the ridiculous song choices. He wouldn't admit it under pain of torture, but he kind of liked the look of pure joy on Jimmy's face, and the idea that he was the cause of it.

 

  
Eventually Greg agreed to let Jimmy hold the guitar as he watched him with eyes like a hawk. He taught Jimmy a couple of minor chords (because the dark-sounding chords are the best). They played on the guitar until Blythe came down and told them it was too late to be playing music.

 

  
"It's late, Jimmy must be tired." Blythe said smoothly to her son, knowing this was the best tack in getting him to go to bed. Any insinuation that he needed to go to sleep too would be met … unfavourably. 

 

  
Greg and Jimmy sat on the bed, enveloped in duvet covers. They talked about super powers and possibilities of other realities, and galaxies of aliens. Jimmy couldn't really win an argument on this stuff, he had ideas but his mind was yet to form the coherent, well-explained points needed. But he sat and listened to Greg with a smile because he could feel the spark inside him. And he knew that one day he would be just as convincing as Greg. 

 

  
Finally they landed on a discussion Jimmy thought he had a shot at winning; Star Wars verses Star Trek. They argued for a while, and he let Greg rant for a while. Then it was time. He let forth his crushing blow with a feigned shy smile and modest eyes. Greg's only response was a snore.

 

 

 

They started to hang out a lot more over the next couple of months. It didn't seem to be as big a deal as it had been before the sleepover. Everyday they walked to school together, despite the fact that their schools weren't really that close.

 

September 1972

 

  
Jimmy ran into the park, taking special care to jump on all the crunchy leaves on the way.

 

  
"Lets play catch." Jimmy exclaimed.

 

  
"Ok, but lets make it interesting." Greg replied.

 

  
"How?" Jimmy asked, attempting to narrow his eyes suspiciously; he really just looked constipated. 

 

  
"Person who misses the ball most buys the winner an ice-cream." Said Greg.

 

  
"It's too cold for ice-cream." Jimmy pointed out; he stopped himself from mentioning that Greg would also probably beat him, as he was so much bigger. For Jimmy had endless hope.

  
 

"Is it ever too cold for ice-cream?" Greg asked as though he was a cheesy advertiser.

 

  
"No. Let's play." Jimmy responded with an equally cheesy grin. The ball flew back and forth for a while.

 

  
"Ow, you hit my shoulder!" Jimmy shouted.

 

  
"You have to move around and catch." He said, swiftly reaching to catch the ball Jimmy had purposefully thrown to the left. On his next throw, Greg threw much further away.

 

  
"That's not fair." Jimmy panted, while futilely running after it. Jimmy threw short so even with Greg's athletic running, it still landed on the ground closer to Jimmy than Greg. Their running laughter filled the park as the throws got worse and worse, and they weren't really even trying to catch the ball anymore. They lay on the grass exhausted.

 

  
"Next time we bet on something, we should set better rules." Greg said snorting.

 

  
"So you can break them more easier?" Jimmy replied. Greg just smiled.   

 

 

  
October 1972

 

Greg watched Jimmy sleeping on the train. They had had a great Saturday out, but Jimmy was looking way too angelic. Greg peered into his bag, ideas forming in his mind.

 

  
"You shaved my EYEBROWS!!" Jimmy yelled at him.

 

  
"Relax, they'll grow back soon." Greg replied nonchalantly.

 

  
"That's not the point!" Jimmy told him with a little shrug that would transform into a hands-on-hips gesture in later years. Jimmy let out an exasperated sigh as they got home and Greg still showed no remorse.

 

  
"See you tomorrow?" Greg asked in an annoyingly chipper, and yet somehow vulnerable voice. Suddenly the lack of apology didn't matter.

 

A few days later Jimmy went up to him very upset.

  
"My eyebrows have grown back huge." He whispered.  Greg looked at Jimmy; it was true that the eyebrows were comically big on such a small face.

 

  
"Don't worry you'll grow into them." Greg replied.

 

  
"Really?" Jimmy asked hopefully.

 

  
"Sure." Greg assured him, but muttered under his breath, "eventually."   

 

 

  
November 1972

 

  
"What you doing today?" Jimmy asked as they walked to school.

 

  
"Today's boring but tomorrow we get to dissect frogs in bio." Greg replied.

 

  
"What does that mean?" He asked.

 

  
"We cut up frogs, see what's inside, poke their guts etc."

 

  
"That's horrible." Gasped Jimmy.

 

  
"Curiosity and poking around is vital for science." Greg told his friend.

 

  
"But you aren't scientists." Jimmy pointed out.

 

  
"Yet." Greg added.

 

  
"Exactly."

 

  
"Ok, what're you going to do about it?" Greg said encouraging his friend.

 

  
"We set them free!" Jimmy stated joyfully.

 

  
"That's ridiculous, they'll just buy more."

 

  
"So we set those free too, we'll need a good plan so we don't get caught before they give up." Jimmy began plotting.

 

  
"And they say I'm the nefarious one." Said Greg rolling his eyes.

 

  
"You'll come?" Jimmy said warily, without Greg the plan would be doomed.

 

  
"Disruption, mayhem, why not?" Greg beamed with a wicked grin.

 

  
"What happened to 'vital for science'?"

 

  
"Amateur idiots screeching while cutting blind do not scientists make." Greg said reiterating Jimmy's earlier point. 

 

 

 

December 1972

 

  
He sighed, he was doing well at school. His friendship with Jimmy was going great and his dad was still away on mission and out of his hair. In other words everything was going well. Which of course in Greg Houses' world meant that everything was about to change. So when his mother told him, even though he was upset he was not surprised.  

 

  
Greg's father had been stationed in Japan and they were moving out there, the flight left at 3.

 

  
Jimmy wrapped his arms around Greg, hugging him tightly. Greg grudgingly hugged back. A sense of loss had sunken deep into their bones. They had agreed to write, but who knew how often they would. Greg knew that even if he wrote every single day, it wouldn't be the same, what they've had would be lost. Jimmy was hopeful, if they tried hard, it would still be different but not necessarily worse.

 

  
This isn't some story that'll have a happy ending just because we wish it enough, he had said. His life would go on just like it always had, he would get through school quickly and leave as soon as possible. Jimmy would continue living in his brothers' shadows and develop various complexes. Life would go on, maybe one day they would meet again. 

  
 


End file.
